


To Be Trusted

by fireweed15



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Disabled Character, F/M, Headcanon, Male ID'ing Peridot, Redemption, hurt/comfort bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 16:46:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4270599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireweed15/pseuds/fireweed15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Sequel to "Albatross" ] Lapis helps Peridot with his casing. In return, Peridot explains some things that he's never trusted anyone with before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Be Trusted

**Author's Note:**

> “To be trusted is a greater compliment than to be loved.” – George MacDonald, The Marquis of Lossie (1877), Chapter IV

The day had started off gray and gloomy, and became progressively worse. By late afternoon, the dark clouds were finally starting to open up, allowing a drizzle, and then rain, to pour on anyone out in it—including Lapis and Peridot.

“We need to find a place to stop,” Peridot said from his place on Lapis’ back, his voice right in her ear.

Lapis nodded in agreement, readjusting her hold on Peridot’s legs. “Do you see any place?” She looked around them. They’d somehow wandered into an industrial area, and the odds of finding a shelter or a particularly friendly hotel or bed and breakfast were slight.

“Wherever,” Peridot bit out. “Just—out of the rain.”

The words were uncharacteristically short for him, and Lapis found that almost worrisome as she approached some of the buildings. Most of them were closed up tight, but one of them, in a more severe state of disrepair than its neighbors, was open, and Lapis darted inside just as thunder rumbled in the distance.

The building was an abandoned warehouse, drafty and not the most welcoming, but it was a place to stay dry for the night. “How’s this?” Lapis asked, stepping farther into the warehouse in search of somewhere for them to settle.

“Fine,” Peridot replied.

Lapis started to ask if he was okay when she passed a stack of tall wooden crates and nearly sighed with relief. The stacks of empty crates formed walls, and some of them had been tipped on their sides, making places to sit or lie down. Perhaps she and Peridot weren’t the first ones to stop here, but for now, it was unoccupied, and thus the perfect place to stop. “This is great,” she said, moving toward one of the overturned crates and letting Peridot slide off her back to sit down.

As Peridot drew his legs onto the makeshift bed, Lapis walked the perimeter of their makeshift room. The floor was dusty, and a few pieces of human litter and abandoned tools were laying out on the floor, but for the most part, it was livable. A window high above them allowed a little light into the space, and afforded them the sights and sounds of the storm outside.

“This isn’t so bad,” Lapis announced, looking to the window. She’d never been one to mind the rain, anyway.

A faint groan cut into her thoughts, and she turned back to Peridot. He pressed his lips into a thin line, his whole body tense, as he shifted on the crate, acting as though he was trying to get comfortable. He muttered a soft curse, the breathiness of their native tongue almost lost to a particularly loud rumble of thunder.

“Are you alright?” Lapis asked, joining him on the crate.

“No,” Peridot replied shortly, shaking his head.

“What’s wrong?” Lapis reached out and laid a hand on the other Gem’s shoulder. The tension in his body was even more obvious under her fingers, and she started to worry all the more for him.

“I’ve been in…” Peridot trailed off, waving a hand to indicate his body. “Too long. I need out—”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she offered.

“See what tools you can find,” Peridot requested, waving his hand toward the things spread out over the warehouse floor. “They’re primitive but I might be able to use them.”

“Will you be alright?” Lapis murmured.

“Once I get out of the casing, yes,” he confirmed, shifting to lie back, almost flat, with his weight borne on his arms.

Lapis nodded in understanding before standing and moving about the small area they called their home for the night, picking up the tools she found. Outside, rain fell in torrential sheets.

After a few moments, Lapis returned to the crates, a bundle of tools gathered in her skirt. “I don’t know what will be useful to you,” she admitted, sitting on the edge of the makeshift bed.

“Useful to  _you_ ,” Peridot corrected. When Lapis looked at him with surprise, his expression became sheepish. “I'll… need help, please. Normally, I have the robonoids, but…”

“I’ll do the best I can,” Lapis promised. “What do we do first?”

“Start with my arms,” he replied, lying supine on the crates and staring up at the darkened lights. As he did so, his fingers, detached from the rest of his arms, withdrew into the metal of his forearm proper.

“How do I do that?” she asked, laying the tools she’d found out beside her.

“There’s a panel on both pieces,” he explained, “inner elbow. Lift it up and there’s a release switch—you’ll press that.”

Lapis nodded again and ran her fingers along Peridot’s forearm until her fingers found the seam of the panel to which he’d referred. As gently as she could, she lifted the panel and inspected the open parts. She quickly found the switch, and pressed it. There was a soft series of beeps, then a pneumatic hiss and a click.

“That means you can slide it off,” Peridot said.

Lapis did as he instructed and eased the casing loose from his arm, but that wasn’t the problem she encountered. The reason Peridot’s hand was simply floating digits, she realized, was because there was no natural hand to be had. His arm ended just above the wrist, and the tissue there was scarred, extremely unusual in Gemkind. “Peridot…”

“It’s not going to get any better from here,” he commented archly, his gaze fixed firmly on the ceiling.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Not to be rude, but can we finish this please?” Peridot requested. “Believe it or not, I’m in a lot of pain right now.”

“Of course,” Lapis murmured, reaching across him to remove the other arm piece. It slid away as easily as its twin, revealing an arm in the same state as the other, scarred and amputated at the wrist. Lapis laid both pieces out of the way and waited for Peridot to give her further instruction.

“The diamond has a manual control panel,” Peridot explained, turning his head to consider the tools Lapis had brought over. “It needs to be opened with… that one looks like it’ll work.” He waved his arm in the general direction of one of the pieces.

“Which one?” Lapis asked, her hands hovering over the tools. Given the delicate nature of the work she was about to do, she didn’t dare chance mistaking where Peridot was pointing.

“The one with the axial shaft, flat blade,” Peridot clarified. “The… third from the left.”

Lapis picked up the tool and briefly inspected it. The metal projecting from the handle was thin, and tapered off to a small, squared off point. Peridot had described it as a blade, but it wasn’t sharp. “What next?” she asked.

“Use the point of the blade—three quarter-turns to the right, six quarter-turns to the left,” he instructed, “then three full turns to the right and once to the left. The diamond will open and allow me to put in an access code.”

Lapis nodded and carefully leaned in over Peridot’s chest. Trying to keep her hands steady, she found a small notch, barely noticeable unless one was looking for it, in the center of the diamond on his uniform. It was probably just as much a piece of his casing as the arm guards were, she supposed, but she didn’t allow herself to dwell on it for too long, and executed the turns that Peridot gave her. When she removed the blade, the edges of the diamond glowed briefly, and then retracted to reveal a small voice access panel. “ _Authorization code requested_ ,” it droned.

Peridot lifted an arm slightly to silence Lapis before speaking. “This is Peridot. Authorizing casing removal, access code nine-four-oh-two-oh-two-seven-four-three-nine.”

The access panel hummed for a moment before chirping in confirmation. “ _Casing removal authorized_.” With the permission given, Lapis watched as the parts covering Peridot’s torso broke apart, as if at seams, and folded in and withdrew upon themselves and disappeared into the lower leg pieces. As they moved, Lapis found herself considering the other Gem’s body. Without the casing, he looked smaller, almost frail, and the heavy scarring did little to dispel the illusion.

Something wasn’t right with his body, she realized. A Gem who wasn’t injured to the point of regeneration was always able to project a new form for themselves—and yet Peridot remained with this one, weak and scarred and damaged.

Peridot’s sigh of relief was almost indistinguishable from the pneumatic hiss of the leg pieces releasing themselves. “Now you just slide the legs off,” he told her, lifting his head slightly, “same way as the arm pieces—just try not to hurt my feet.”

Lapis nodded in understand before taking the leg piece farther from her and gently working it down, pausing only to make sure she wasn’t hurting him. It occurred to her, though, that he never responded to her touches, as though he couldn’t feel them. Something was most certainly wrong with his body.

It took a little extra effort by the time she reached his ankles, but finally she’d slid both pieces free from his body and laid them next to the arm guards. “Better?” she asked.

Peridot’s expression softened, and he sighed deeply. “Much better,” he confirmed. “Thank you.”

Lapis nodded in reply as she stacked the tools next to the parts of his casing. “Would you like something to cover with?” she asked.

Peridot turned his head to consider her. “Modesty is a human construct,” he noted, quirking an eyebrow. “Is there a problem?”

“No, of course not,” Lapis replied, laying a hand on Peridot’s chest. The action underscored the fact that Gems didn’t find such a touch sexually charged the way humans did. “I only offered because it’s kinda cold in here.”

Peridot considered her point, then nodded in acceptance. “If you want to find something, you can,” he replied. “I don’t get cold.”

“I’ll see what I can find,” she announced, standing up and leaving the walled off area. The sounds of her moving and opening things caught Peridot’s ear, but he didn’t pay them mind. Memories started to filter to the surface, but he didn’t pay them mind. Not here and now, at any rate.

“Well, it’s not perfect,” Lapis announced, returning to their room of boxes, “but I found this.”

Peridot turned his head to see Lapis shaking out a heavy, coarse looking blanket. “I think it’s to protect something fragile,” she was noting.

“Well, we’re about as fragile as they come,” Peridot remarked dryly.

Lapis chuckled good naturedly before examining the blanket. “It looks big enough—we can lay it on the boxes so it’s a little more comfortable.” She draped the blanket over her arm and lightly tapped Peridot’s shoulder. “If you get up, I can make the bed.”

Peridot felt a rush of color in his cheeks. “I… can’t.”

“Are you really that tired?” she asked.

“It’s not that,” he replied. “I…  _can’t_.”

The words gave Lapis pause, and she fixed her fellow Gem with a meaningful gaze. “What do you mean, you can’t?”

“The reason I needed help out of my casing is because…” God, this was a conversation Peridot never wanted to have. “I can’t move without it.”

Lapis’ eyes widened slightly, and after a moment, she dug her thumb into Peridot’s hip.

Peridot lifted his head to watch her. “I can see you doing it, but I can barely feel it.”

“Come here,” Lapis murmured, working her arms under Peridot’s knees and back. When she lifted him, she was almost stunned about how little he seemed to weight without the casing. “Where should I…” She trailed off, trying to find a way to phrase the question in a way that wouldn’t offend the other Gem.

“Just don’t set me on anything that might cut me,” he instructed, seeming to understand what she meant.

Lapis nodded before setting Peridot on the clearest section of floor she could find. “Is this okay?” she asked, leaning Peridot against a crate so that he could sit up.

“It’s fine,” he mumbled. “Thanks.”

Lapis smiled slightly and briefly laid a hand on his shoulder before stepping away to lay the blanket out over the overturned crates. Outside, lightning briefly illuminated room, and thunder rumbled overhead.

“I think it’s ready,” Lapis announced, stepping back from the makeshift bed. “Do you want another blanket to rest your head?”

“No thank you,” Peridot replied as Lapis rejoined him. “I just want off the floor.”

“Would you like my help?” she offered, crouching next to him.

“Please,” he replied, idly pushing away a rusted nail with the stump of his arm. “I probably shouldn’t drag myself around on this floor.”

The way he worded the sentence caught her ear, but Lapis didn’t reply. Instead, she lifted the other Gem and carried him back to the crates. “What’s more comfortable for you?” she asked.

“My side, please,” he mumbled as Lapis set him on the blanket.

She waited until Peridot was leaning back on his elbows before lifting his legs onto the crates. As best as he was able to, Peridot laid back to get comfortable before nodding wordless permission to turn him.

As gently as she could, Lapis turned him onto his side, being mindful to bring one of his legs down to keep him from tipping over onto his front. “Are you comfortable?” she asked.

Peridot nodded in reply. “One more thing, please?” he requested. “Could you… I don’t like sleeping in my visor…”

The request was understood, and Lapis nodded in agreement. Being mindful to not touch the lens, she worked the visor from his face. The exhaustion from both traveling and the emotional weight of their circumstances and his vulnerability were etched on Peridot’s face and in his eyes—was this the same Gem she’d met a few months ago? “How’s that?” she asked, pushing the thoughts away and laying the visor just above his head.

Peridot’s sigh of relief was a marked difference from the rumble of the storm outside. “Much better,” he confirmed. “Thank you.”

Lapis smiled warmly before laying a hand on Peridot’s shoulder. “May I lie down with you?” she asked.

Peridot  _hmm_ -ed in reply, finally feeling tired now that he was lying down and not aching. “Sure,” he agreed.

“Thank you,” Lapis said as she crawled on top of the crates to lie behind Peridot, also on her side. “Let me just—” There was some rustling, and then they were bother covered by the blanket. “Now we’ll at least be warm.”

“Yeah,” Peridot mumbled sleepily. The weather outside remained awful, and he was thankful they weren’t out in it, but the sounds were a soothing white noise to which to fall asleep.

“Hey Peridot?”

Lapis’ voice was quiet, but cut through the air as though she’d shouted. “Yeah?” he asked, lifting his head.

“May I ask a personal question?”

Peridot suspected he knew what the question would be. “What is it?”

“Why do you even need the casing?” she asked softly. “I… I get that you can’t move without it, but…” Lapis’ arm worked under his, securing him against her chest. “What happened?”

Peridot sighed softly. “An accident,” he replied. “During the War.”

“Oh no,” Lapis murmured. “What happened?” There was a pause, then—"You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.“

"You’ve seen me this low—you may as well know everything.” For a moment, Peridot considered laying his arm on Lapis’ but couldn’t bring himself to subject her to the scars on his arms, and instead laid his arm on his hip.

“I was an engineer, and during the war, I served as a… technical scout in the army,” he started. “One of my duties was to assist installing new bases on Gem controlled worlds.”

In the past, his explanation had ended there just to avoid explaining the rest of it. He swallowed hard before going on. “One day, there was an… accident—I still don’t know exactly what happened, but… I was buried. Under the rubble at the site where I was working. I ended up… retreating to my gem. After they finally dug me out.”

“But if you did that,” Lapis interrupted, “why…?”

She wasn’t able to finish the question, but Peridot understood it all the same. “My gem was damaged, as well,” he replied. “You can’t see it now—while I was regenerating the medics took care of the cosmetic damage.”

“What about the things they… couldn’t repair?” Lapis murmured.

“You’ve seen it,” Peridot replied, a little shortly. He swallowed his bitterness and tried again. “I regenerated into the body I had at the time of the accident. That’s when I found out I was… paralyzed, and my hands…”

He paused, looking down at the stumps of his arms. “I don’t know why they couldn’t save my hands,” he admitted. “I never wanted to find out.”

“Peri, I’m so sorry,” Lapis murmured.

“Don’t be,” he groused. “I hate pity.”

Lapis didn’t reply with words, but ran her hand along his arm. After a moment, her fingers curled loosely around his wrist, as though holding his hand, apparently unbothered by the scars there, or by his lack of hands to hold. “Sorry… I didn’t realize.”

Peridot shook his head, quietly considering Lapis’ hand around his wrist. “They said… they couldn’t do anything for me. I started designing my casing after that.”

“That must have been tough,” Lapis said quietly.

“I had to lay on my front and draw the plans with the stylus between my teeth,” he said by way of confirmation, staring at the crates opposite them. “If I wanted to move around I had to drag myself there. It was better than ending up in a home.”

“Home?” Lapis echoed.

“They’re homes for Gems who can’t take care of themselves,” Peridot explained.

“They would have put you in one of those?” shed asked, her fingers tightening slightly around his wrist.

“No questions asked,” he confirmed. “Those homes were—they’re fucking hell, Lapis!” He was yelling now, the storm outside underscoring his upset. “They treat you like a piece of the furniture, and don’t even care if you say something about it or not—I’m lucky I didn’t end up in one!”

For several moments, the only sound was the rain pattering against the window, punctuated by a flash of lightning and a rumble of thunder. Finally, Lapis withdrew her hand, and for a moment, Peridot was afraid he’d frightened or offended her with his outburst. Then he could hear her, very faintly, press a kiss to her fingertips, which she lightly brushed over his gem.

The gesture was very affectionate, almost maternal, and it grounded him. “We don’t have to talk about it anymore if you don’t want,” she murmured.

“Sorry,” Peridot mumbled. “I don’t normally…” He paused, took a deep, shuddering breath, then tried again. “It’s hard. I try not to talk about it. I mean… Can you imagine if someone like  _Jasper_  knew?”

As much as she could, given their positions, Lapis offered him a warm hug. “Let’s just be grateful she doesn’t,” she replied softly.

“Yeah,” he agreed, just as softly. He paused, choosing his next words carefully. “Thank you for helping me with my casing. I'm… glad I can trust someone to help me with it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lapis replied before pressing a warm kiss to his shoulder. “Thank you for trusting me enough to help you.”


End file.
